


Disease and Danger

by greglet



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Based on a Tumblr Post, Established Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Series, Shorts, Temporary Amnesia, just a bunch of mckirk shorts that will be added to a lot, mckirk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8681902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greglet/pseuds/greglet
Summary: A collection of short mckirk fics and one shots written to prompts I find.





	1. Move, My Arm Is Falling Asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To fill the prompt: Move, My Arm is Falling Asleep

“Mm.” Leonard mumbled weakly against Jim’s neck.

“What?” Jim whispered against Leonard’s ear.

“Move.” Leonard said more clearly, his left arm coming up to paw at Jim’s right shoulder that lay over his chest.

“No.” Jim refused, ignoring Leonard’s light shoving. 

“Move.” Leonard repeated, a small laugh in his throat at Jim’s defiance.

“Why?” 

“My damn arm is falling asleep ‘cause you’re so heavy.” Leonard didn’t give Jim any more room to complain, pushing him off as he sat up on the edge of their bed to shake the blood back into his arm.

“Are you calling me fat?” Jim muttered into their pillow, but even in the dark of two am, Leonard could see the small smirk at his lips.

“A few salads wouldn’t hurt now.” Leonard said, a teasing twinkle in his eye that was replied to by a harsh poke in his back. Jim sighed into the pillow as Leonard raised and dropped his arm, shaking the feeling back. It was a brief silence, but both of them were trying not to think of the same thing: tomorrow. 

“How’s the arm, doc, does it need cut off or what?” Jim said, being a good distraction, before rolling over onto his side and running his warm open palm gently over Leonard’s bare back. 

“Yeah, one amputation, stat.” Leonard drawled and sat back against Jim, his right arm held up above his head. “Tomorrow’s gonna be a shit day, Jim,” Leonard went to stroke Jim’s hair with his left hand, the dull glow from their alarm clock bleaching the golden tips of his hair a mellow blue. “You should get some sleep.” 

“What if we just don’t go?” Jim bargained with a pout.

“We need to go, Jim - you definitely need to go.” With the feeling back in his right arm he dropped it to run along Jim’s shins at his back. “If you didn’t want to go, then you shouldn’t have saved the federation - again.” 

Jim smirked at that, unable to keep a straight face at Leonard’s cynically appreciative humour. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“Yeah, don’t you forget it.” Leonard crooned as he leaned towards Jim. His left hand sat under Jim’s chin, his thumb rubbing along his bottom lip which produced the small smile he loved so much. Still, just as much as he loved to see it, he loved wiping it off as well, and, with a few slow kisses, Leonard managed just that. “If you don’t go to sleep soon, the whole quadrant’s gonna call you tired, and you know what happens when Captains get called tired.”

“They get _re_ tired.” Jim replied, mid-yawn. It wasn’t just a coincidence that the minute the intergalactic media called an official ‘tired’ or ‘stressed’ that they were later ‘retired from active service’. Still, Leonard believed Jim would be the exception to that rule; broken, burned - even dead and resurrected - Jim Kirk was still the posterboy for Starfleet. Regardless, time was marching on and the press conferences tomorrow started early. Leonard shuffled back to where he was - by Jim’s side and under his heavy, claiming arm. “What do you think the first question’s gonna be?” Jim eyes were shut already as he asked.

“Dunno, probably something open like ‘how’d you do it’ or ‘why do you keep dragging your CMO into shit like this?’” Leonard got a knee in his thigh for his complaint and a dip in Jim’s brow. “Really, Jim, I don’t know - they’ll just be like the last time, ‘cept this time we’re on a starbase and not Earth.” Last time, after the incident with the Vengeance, the press conferences were first, then the memorials and finally, the inquests. It meant that anything said to the press could be used as evidence in the inquests. It also showed that the independent judges were not against catching someone out by outside means - they wanted their answers and weren’t all that strict on how to get them. This time, however, the inquests would be limited with there being a cold trail on Krall for years before he showed up, only for Jim to strategically push him into the void of space…

It chilled Leonard when he thought about it for too long, but he was growing somewhat used to the danger. Or, maybe just accustomed to stop thinking about what could’ve happened and just be happy with what did happen. What happened this time was that Jim lived. Leonard caught him falling through the air and made sure only one being reached the vacuum of space. That was who they were, after all. Jim was the active participant in all things disastrous and Leonard picked him up when he was finished, patched him up and dusted him off. 

“I hope they ask me ‘bout you.” Jim muttered, barely distinguishing one word from the other.

“Why?” Leonard felt the shrug Jim made.

“I like talkin’ ‘bout you, s’easy.” Jim’s thumb that lay over Leonard’s chest stroked above his heart. “Makes the rest of the questions… bearable.” 

Leonard smiled softly and pressed a kiss to Jim’s forehead. “Love ya, darlin’.” Leonard raised a hand to caress Jim’s cheek, stealing one last kiss for the night.

“Love y’ too, Bones.” It was hardly a whisper, but the squeeze from Jim’s hand around his side and the short nuzzle of Jim’s head against his chest was loud enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is probably going to be an ongoing thing where if i see a good prompt and want to write something out, i will. it'll probably be shorter than the rest of the things i write. but then again, i say that every time and it never is. 
> 
> also, feel free to leave me prompts in comments and if i can think of something to do for it, you never know, you might get a gift. 
> 
> i'll be uploading in chapter format, but every new "chapter" is just gonna be a new prompt. yknow what i mean? okay great. enjoy!


	2. Damn This Lift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: 
> 
> You got on this lift only for it to break and yeah I'm panicking, but shit, you're hot

_...then change the ward nurses shifts by three hours either side… they won’t like it, but that’s just tough - and request for more supplies at the next base, need to ask Jim when we’re-_

“Bones!” Jim said, a bright smile spreading across his lips, bringing Leonard out of his bubble. 

“Jim, I didn’t even feel the lift stop, where you off to?” Leonard crossed his arms and took a step to the side, letting Jim into the lift. 

“The bridge?” Jim asked, his tone expressing the redundancy in the question. Leonard rolled his eyes and shook his head at himself. 

“Sorry, just trying to figure out new shift patterns for the nurses.” He shook the padd in his hand and Jim nodded in understanding. It had been a while since Jim had been captain and, ultimately, it was going smoothly. The only issue had been the lack of close contact between them. They didn’t really get time for themselves, and often when Jim wasn’t on shift, Leonard was and vice versa. It didn’t help when Leonard was practically pining every night, alone in his quarters, for the closeness they had at the academy and he had a sneaking suspicion Jim was on the same page. Still, bringing something like that up to talk about wasn’t exactly easy when Leonard didn’t feel them as in sync as they had been before. 

“Getting anywhere with it?” Jim asked, but as Leonard raised his shoulders to shrug, the turbolift juddered to a stop, their arms going out to grasp the walls for stability. 

“What the hell was that?” Leonard asked as Jim bashed a hand against the wall, calling engineering. 

“Scotty - Scotty, what the hell’s going on?” Jim asked, his commanding impatient tone making a rare appearance. 

“Sir? What’s the issue? We’ve got no errors down here.” Scotty asked, the beeps of him searching for malfunctions coming through on the comm.

“Come on, me and Bones are stuck in the turbo.”

“Aye, alright, on ma way!” Jim slid back against the wall, looking at Leonard as if he was expecting Scotty to realise something just as the incoming comm tone sounded again. 

“Yes, Scotty?” Jim was already rolling his eyes, knowing what was coming. 

“Eh, I might be a wee while… the lift’s off so I’m gonnae have to, y’know, run through all the decks.” Leonard might have smiled at the situation if being stuck in a lift several hundreds of feet off of anything remotely solid wasn’t making him distinctly uneasy. 

“Yeah, yeah, Kirk out” Jim waved off the call and slid down the walls. “Settle in, Bones, Scotty’s not gonna be here for a while.” Those bright blue eyes were so tempting; Leonard would have happily slid down beside him to ‘settle in’, but the idea of sitting on a floor that could disappear from under him made his stomach flip. Instead, he shuffled where he stood and crossed his arms over himself again. 

“I’ll stand.” He said, running a hand through his hair, his nervous ticks coming out in force as his other hand balled around the edge of his padd while his jaw clenched. 

“Is this freaking you out?” Jim asked, still looking up at him with those shining blues as if Jim wasn’t already hard enough to ignore. Before Leonard answered, Jim reached up from where he sat, pushing the comm button again. “Scotty, where you at?” 

“Ah, Jim, I’m passin’ the holodecks-” 

“The holodecks? What’re you doing over there?” 

“Aw, I don’t know what’s up with the lifts, but three others are off too, am on ma way, Cap’n-” Jim cut him off at that point, a look of apology and uncertainty was flicked to Leonard who could do nothing but reply with a pursed smile. 

“Bones-” 

“S’alright, Jim, just- hold this.” Leonard tossed him the padd he had been holding onto, his fingers leaving a few sweaty prints as he let it go before he made his way to the floor, sitting opposite Jim with their legs running parallel. “I’m alright, just don’t look at me like I’m fragile and I’ll be fine.” 

“See, it’s not that bad down here.” Jim’s beaming smile had Leonard pursing a small smirk back and the pat on his foot helped to calm him a little bit too. “I miss that.” 

“Miss what?” 

“That look - this one.” Jim mirrored what he saw, pulling his brow down and making an awkward twitch at his lips that looked like a twisted smirk. “Ahm Bones and ahm grumpy cause Jem made me late for work again.”

“Jem?” 

“S’how you say my name, ‘Jem, no’, ‘Jem, don’t touch that’, ‘Jem, don’t eat that’, ‘Jem, put that down or so help me I will hit your back teeth forward.’” Jim got a laugh out of Leonard for that, but he still couldn’t find it in him to agree. 

“I’ve never said that in my life-” 

“Oh, you have so.” Jim pressed, keeping Leonard laughing while the comm tone sounded from the control panel above their heads. 

“Cap’n? I’m outside the lift and ye’re between floors… I cannae just pull the doors open, I’ll need to get the systems online first, so, hang on.” 

“Alright, Scotty.” Jim clicked off the call again as his eyes flicked back to Leonard, nudging his thigh with his boot. “I missed us, too, y’know.” 

“Yeah, I know, Jim, but it’s not like we can ditch class and get wasted in the bar anymore.” Leonard said, his brow raised at the memories. 

“Why not?” Jim asked as he started to slide around the lift to sit up against Leonard, making them seamless as Jim’s right side sat flushed with Leonard’s left.

“‘Cause we’re not students at the academy - you’re the Captain of this boat and I’m here to keep everyone alive-” And maybe the thought of spending time drunk and alone with Jim while focusing on not letting his feelings run rampant was too dangerous.

“And? Don’t you miss me too?”

“‘Course I do, Jim,” Leonard replied diplomatically, not wanting to give anything away, but the tilt of Jim’s head forced him to be more honest. “A lot.” 

“What if I make you have time off?” Jim said, a sly smile at his lips that could only be answered with a raised brow. 

“You gonna make people be friends with you now?” Leonard asked, resting his head against Jim’s as they watched the faint shadow of Scotty working through the opaque glass from the floor above. 

“Dunno, Bones, I kinda thought we were past that.” Jim muttered, and Leonard could tell he was being vague on purpose. 

“Past what?” He asked.

“Friends.” Jim’s answer was careful, sounded out slow as if he was trying to judge Leonard’s response which was only speechless surprise. “I know we’re past that.” Jim reiterated as he turned to nuzzle under Leonard’s ear and press soft lips to the same spot, leaving Leonard almost dizzy from a mix of relief, surprise and a vicious surge of affection he could finally spend. 

After his breath hitched at another kiss under his jawline, Leonard’s left hand rose to find Jim’s jaw and angle his lips up to Leonard’s. It wasn’t the first time they had kissed, but it was the first time it meant more than a drunken mistake (even if they never had the regrets - they definitely had the cowardice not to do anything about it). It was, the first time, however, as Leonard’s hand ran into Jim’s hair as Jim’s hand wandered up under Leonard’s shirt, that they were caught by Scotty and three other crew members who happened to be walking by at the same time. It was a clearing of the engineers throat that shocked him and Jim apart as they each lit up, mortified. 

“Maybe a little warning, Scotty?” Jim said as he pushed himself off the floor. Turning to Leonard, Jim’s mortified heat softened into a mischievous smirk. “So, tonight, eight o’clock, my quarters?” He muttered, offering Leonard a hand that he batted away. 

“You’ll be damn lucky, you freaking idiot.” Leonard shoved Jim back into the lift as he left, still wearing his embarrassment as a furious red stripe, but Jim’s beaming smile and Scotty’s clear unease told Leonard he wasn’t fooling anyone - he’d be at Jim’s at eight on the dot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay another one
> 
> anyways i actually found these kinda therapeutic to write bc theyre short, no expectations, and are just for fun, so i'll be keeping my eye out for more prompts and stuff. hope you like!


	3. Just An Inking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> to fill the prompt: Jim finding one of bones’ surgical markers around the room, not realising how hard the ink is to get off and going a bit crazy during the night.

It was an awkwardly uncouth time. It could be considered late or early - almost four in the morning, ship time. Leonard only slugged into their room an hour ago, but Jim was finding it difficult to find the peace he had before. It wasn’t Leonard’s fault, but the stress was radiating from him - even dormant as he was. Leonard might wear a frown as often as he wore his uniform, but it usually disappeared when he slept - especially when Jim had a warm arm slung over Leonard’s chest and their breathing was in sync. But now, with his back arched, shoulders high, fists balled and frown deep, Leonard was stressing Jim out just by lying there. Of course, Jim couldn’t be any more enamoured by his Bones if he tried - the reason Leonard was sleeping like a tight ball of paused chaos was the fourteen hour surgery he just slipped out of. While Leonard would be exhausted, it was the emergency that had him uptight. The blaring alarms of the red alert and being in the transporter bay to collect the victims of a near massacre never did anything good for the pull in Leonard’s brow. Still, he carried on like the fighter he is, patching, gluing, stapling, regenerating and bonding bodies back together, making them stable and laying them to rest in watchful biobeds before falling into his own for the night… or the next four hours before Leonard would wake for a shift (only to find it graciously delayed by Jim). 

The short breaths weren’t helping Jim fall asleep either as his concern grew to biting his lip and watching the tight tendons on the back of Leonard’s hands twitch rhythmically, as if remembering the processes they just carried out. It was then that Jim spotted it; the surgical pen Leonard used to plan out cuts and maps on skin before taking blade to body. Jim’s inquisitive nature had him gently leaning over Leonard and grabbing the pen from the pocket of the pants Leonard discarded to the floor. It wasn’t long before Jim had the lid off and Leonard’s thick shoulder claimed as a blank canvas. He started with the obvious; hearts. Penning the sickly sweet hearts with arrows through them - the kind Leonard would frown at, but privately enjoy. Then, in the dull blue neon of their alarm clock, Jim noticed the few freckles Leonard had lighting up, and he couldn’t stop himself drawing thin lines between them, creating constellations. A gentle smirk grew at his lips as the freckles encircled the hearts. He drew small arrows pointing to his ‘constellations’ and drew out more specific diagrams beside them, suggesting the stories Jim had thought of. Like the bucket constellation just above Leonard’s elbow on the left; full of love (hearts) and sometimes overflowing on stress-free days. Or the constellation that looked slightly phallic on the back side of his bicep - Jim made sure to leave no guessing about the story there with the winking face beside it. 

There was an hour left before Jim would have to leave for work and he had completed Leonard's right arm from collar bone to wrist, his shoulder blade and down half his back in soft dark doodles. Across his knuckles was ‘love’ and under it, on the back of his hand, read ‘Jim’s’. On the wide space across the back of his palm was a drawing of Jim’s face, cartoonish and winking but the flick of the hair was unmistakable. Around the space of Leonard’s wrist that Jim could reach was a small Enterprise under the brilliance of a starry sky; one that Jim executed by colouring with the ink, leaving tiny gaps of skin as the stars. As it climbed towards his elbow, there were flowers from planets they visited - specifically the ones that bit Jim and had his hand purple by the time they returned to the Enterprise. Jim was sure Bones would laugh at that now, even if he didn’t when it happened. On the curve of Leonard’s shoulder, Jim traced his own right hand, letting his thumb rest on the base of Leonard’s neck - it’s usual position while Jim kissed under Leonard’s left ear with his chest pressed to Leonard’s back. His fingers dipped onto Leonard’s chest and in each outlined digit were stars, symbolising the palpable sparks between them when they touched. Jim rolled his eyes at himself, but knew he could play it up when Leonard found it all - or when Jim would be summoned to medbay in a few hours time to explain what he had done. Still, he hoped that Leonard would see the art on the smooth planes of his back before he washed it off; the littering of lips, the circling of singular freckles with arrows pointing to them with ‘Jim’s’ claiming signature above them. On his shoulder blade was a drawing of Leonard himself, a small delicate heart resting between his brows - Jim’s silent way of saying ‘frown less’. His side, curving round to his stomach was a long oval with the inscription ‘where Jim holds onto’, even though they both knew Jim was far more exploratory to hold onto one place for too long. 

Leonard’s right side, down to the rim of his underwear and where his arm covered his front was awash in dark ink, drawings of love, lust and things that had and will make them (or maybe just Jim) laugh. By the time Jim had examined his art, caressing some of the finer details, he only had twenty minutes to pull himself out of bed and get dressed. He roused Leonard briefly as he struggled out the sheets, but it was nothing that a light kiss to his temple and a ‘go back to sleep, my shift, not yours’ didn’t sate. 

As Jim replicated himself a coffee to take with him to the bridge, he had found a smug smirk of a job well done and the few officers who were around at this time eyed him suspiciously as they bid him good morning. It was no secret that he and Leonard were together, really, by now, it was old news. It had been rumours, then gossip, then confirmed by a few rogue glances and a couple of unsolicited kisses in a supposedly empty medbay. Months had passed, however, and the only difference was that when Jim was summoned to medbay in the middle of his shift for no apparent reason, the eyes that followed him were full of blushing interest, when really he was just about to get into trouble for passing on the salad again. 

Now, however, as he sat at the helm, his empty coffee mug by his left foot, the quiet beep of an incoming comm sounded from under his right arm had him grinning. Clicking to answer, Jim barely got out a taunting ‘yes, Bones?’ before Leonard rushed over him in a hushed but harsh crack. 

“What the _fuck_ did you do - you’re a f- I’m on shift in fifteen and I’m a Jackson Pollock - Jim, this _isn’t_ coming off-” 

“What do you me-”

“I _mean_ , you used a _permanent marker_ and this doesn’t come off even under a sonic, Jim - this shit stays until it fades.” Leonard was hissing and the pretension Jim had been oozing was now crumpled into uneasiness as he thought of the more private drawings he penned. “Jim-” 

“I-” Jim had no procedure for what to do when he personally fucked up his boyfriend’s day and nor could he justify reporting an unscheduled day off for the CMO when he knew M’benga was also off shift today. “I just thought-”  
“No, no, you definitely didn’t do that-” Under Leonard’s anger, Jim could hear the rations of water pour out from the other side of the comm. “You meet me in medbay in twenty minutes.” 

Jim was left stuttering to a dead comm. The silent leave he took, reminiscent of a man sent to the front lines, only gave his tangible guilt more volume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not all prompts end resolved. plus, i've been told by my friend that sometimes its good to leave jim "royally fucked". also ty for their help on words. sorry we didn't agree on "silent leave".


	4. Undercover Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To answer the prompt: A & B are undercover and kiss to save their act except the danger passes and they're still kissing.

Leonard swept around a marble pillar, adjusting the balance of his bow tie in a smooth swish of his hand as it reached to run through his hair. He pulled a glass of bubbling liquid gold from a passing waitress’ tray and took a sip before pressing through the crowds to a place at the bar. 

“Alright, Bones, we have a visual on the scabby queen, coming through the east wing.” Scotty spoke from their fake-limo in the lot outside. 

“Don’t call me that,” Leonard spoke conspicuously to the microphone in his lapel. “That’s Jim’s fuckery-” 

“Or Jim’s property.” He heard Uhura mutter under her breath, sitting in the back of their decked out limo, only adding fuel to the argument between her and Leonard of what Jim means to him. It also just so happened Jim was on the same frequency. 

“Property?” He asked, the echo of the sharp heels on his dress shoes running through the relay. “Did I trademark ‘Bones’? I mean, I should, it’s a pretty good nickname - he is a doctor after all.” Jim smirked and stopped at the bar, a few spaces up from Leonard before shooting him an assessing glance. “A doctor that cleans up well, have you guys seen him tonight? Holy shit.” 

Leonard felt his face heat as he ordered a top shelf double whisky while the crew begged Jim to turn to Leonard, letting the camera in Jim’s glasses catch Leonard in his 6ft, broad and sleek glory. Numerous wolf whistles, applause and sultry remarks sounded in his ear, making him roll his eyes. 

“Can we focus?” Leonard demanded, his tone harsh enough for the lady beside him to glance at him, concerned. He walked away with a rough toast of his glass. 

“Sorry,” Scotty started, “Okay, in ten minutes, the scabby queen, aka: Miss Winsley, will make a small speech,” Leonard stopped by another marble pillar, leaning casually as he surveyed the numerous guests. “At which point you and the Cap’ will be on the first floor breaking into Winsley's private office, breaking into the safe and breaking out the file she has on the faked nuclear report.” 

“Sum it up like that we might start thinkin’ this is easy, Scotty.” Leonard said through a dubious smirk. 

“It will be, Bones - just in and out, five minutes tops.” Jim assured, still hovering at the bar. “Looks like people are gathering around the microphone and Miss Winsley is making her way to the podium early,” Jim paused to refuse another drink from the barman, “Shall I meet you by the stairs?” 

“Let’s get the show on the road.” With another tug at the bow tie, Leonard meandered carefully to the bottom of the stairs, coming to rest against the thick post at the bottom of the banister in wait for Jim. 

“Don’t look now,” Jim said, half in Bones’ earphone and half just in his ear as he passed, “But I’m behind you, just wait twenty seconds and come up after me.” 

Leonard applauded with the rest of the suited and gowned guests as their host began her welcome notes. At the first polite joke and the reflecting laughter, Leonard slipped up the stairs to find Jim on his knees picking a lock. 

“Her office is just here? In the hall? No… guards?” Leonard asked, his gaze sweeping either ends of the hall as Jim worked, “Surely it’s not just _here_?” 

“No, it’s not, but this is the-” Jim shuffled to the side and gestured to the sign on the door, “Keeper’s office.” 

“Keeper’s office,” Leonard repeated. “And why the hell are we pickin’ this lock? Do we even know what a keeper is?"

“Fancy term for security, Bones - y’know, cameras and shit,” Jim grinned as the lock clicked open as he stood. He reached for handle as a cough came from within. “Oh, someone's home.”

“You just wasted all that time picking a damn lock for nothing?" Leonard sighed as Jim shrugged with his crooked smirk - he loved picking locks, Leonard knew that. It also suggested that Jim already knew someone was in the office and just wanted a bit of fun. Leonard rolled his eyes as Jim raised his hand to knock on the door. It took a moment but a small man with a belt girth larger than Leonard was tall opened the door.

“Ah, hello, Sir, we were just wondering-” Jim didn’t need to finish his question as the single hit to the face from Jim’s mean left strike had the security officer’s head and eyes rolling back. Jim and Leonard hauled him back to the well-worn office chair in front of a myriad of camera angles all across the banquet halls, hallways of the manor, the gardens and the miles of driveway. Quickly, Jim popped the tapes, letting the cameras still work but nothing be recorded while Bones tied and gagged the security officer. 

“Is that necessary?” Jim asked, a tip of sympathy in a lifted brow.

“Yes,” Leonard retorted. “Unless you want him waking up and pounding the alarm when we’re not close to getting what we need.” Screwing the lid back on the bottle of chloroform, Leonard pushed the security officer away from the desk so that even if he woke up, he bound limbs couldn’t reach the desk to even smash for help. 

They stayed a few moments longer, studying the hallways closest as they listened to Scotty direct them to the office they needed. They watched a monitor with bated breath as two guards stalked straight past their door. As the guards came to a halt outside their door, Jim and Bones crept up behind it. 

“So, after this, you free?” Jim whispered with the cocky smirk Leonard liked to frown at. 

“What?” Leonard mouthed back. 

“It’s just, I don’t want to waste you lookin’ like that - drink?” Jim’s offer sounded as hollow as the offers he handed out to the best dressed person at the bar he hit every other day, but if it weren’t for the worried sincerity in his eyes, Leonard wouldn’t have balked. As Leonard opened his mouth to reply with ‘there’s a time and place’, the guards outside spoke up.

“Last lap and then back down for a glass of whatever they’re having, Pete?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

When their steps couldn’t be heard, Jim peaked around the door as Leonard glanced back towards the monitors, giving Jim a quick nod when it was time to go. They left the room spotless - no fingerprints, loose hairs or a scuff from a shoe. The only difference was that the guard was tied to the chair rather than sitting comfortably. Making their way out and left, they began a facade of confidence, knowing that if they looked like they knew what they were doing and where they were going, no one would stop to ask. 

“Did you mean that?” Leonard asked as Jim crouched to pick the first set of locked double doors. 

“Mean what?” 

“Drink.” Leonard folded his arms as he leant against the wall, trying not to betray his interest, even as Jim paused to look up at him. 

“Well, yeah, I just thought cause, y’know, we’re dressed up and it’s a fancy place… if they haven’t caught us maybe we could uh, put the adrenaline to good use.” Jim grinned and Leonard frowned, but there was still a tone beneath Jim’s voice that was hesitant in the lines Jim usually used with unwavering confidence. It told Leonard that Jim meant every word - he just didn’t know how to say it properly. 

“I don’t know, kid,” Leonard started, worried over variables. After all, Leonard didn’t want to admit that the cocky attitude, nose for danger, physique and personality of a genius-blond named Jim Kirk was sculpted for him, but neither did he want to lose his chance. “You’re dine and dash, I stay for the cheque.” 

Jim’s brow pulled, his eyes dropping as he thought on Leonard’s expression before he finished picking the lock and shouldering through the doors. “Are you saying you’re worried I wouldn’t be there in the morning?” 

“There wouldn’t be a morning, Jim, a drink’s a drink, I just don’t rush these things, you know me.” Leonard kept pace, glancing into smaller opened rooms and tight corridors branching off the main one they were on. They seemed to be on their own despite the fact that they office they were intending on ransacking was right at the end of the corridor, directly facing them and in their sights. 

“Yeah, I do know you, s’why I asked.” Jim said meekly, a hand to the back of his neck. 

“Is this when you use the line about how his suit would look better on your bedroom floor or did we pass that moment?” Sulu whispered in both their ears, earning a ‘shut up, Sulu’ from both of them instantaneously. 

“You clean up not so bad yourself, y’know.” Leonard offered with a smile to break the building awkward tension, but maybe the heat he felt over his ears was from the thought of discarding Jim’s sharp suit with eager fingers, and not just Sulu’s comment. “Maybe it would be a shame to waste the outfits.” 

“You saying yes to the drink?” Jim’s eyes lit up in hope while Leonard mirrored a smirk. Leonard’s reply was cut off Scotty hissed in their ear.

“Guard’s coming - out the room three ahead on the right, find a door that’s unlocked or run, there’s nowhere else to go-” 

“Shit-” Leonard hissed as Jim’s gaze shot between Leonard and the wobbling doorknob three ahead. Jim and Leonard dashed to either side of the hallway, trying the doors as Leonard’s thankfully gave way, letting them dart in just as the guard stepped into the hall. 

“You think he saw us?” 

“Who’s there?” A shout came from the hall as the handle was tried in the room they were hiding. “Is that you, Mike?” 

“Go with me, Bones.” Jim warned him briefly before swinging an arm over his shoulders and another through Leonard’s hair as he brought their lips together. Leonard’s hands barely had the sense to grab at Jim’s waist as the guard stepped in. 

“Oh, fuck, Mike- sorry-” The guard automatically shielded his eyes from the romantic altercation and stepped out, closing the door behind him, not making another noise as he backed off up the corridor. 

The rush Jim had set to cover their discovery had melted, but hands were still exploring as time and place faded. Jim’s right hand sat over Leonard’s shoulder, his fingers running over the nape of Leonard’s neck. Leonard’s hand ran up Jim’s back before leaving to caress Jim’s jaw, his thumb running over his cheekbone. 

“Uh, boys?” Scotty coughed, but received no reply as Jim tilted his head and pressed his chest to Leonard’s as he ushered him back against the wall. Leonard reached to knock Jim’s glasses off and his right hand dropped from Jim’s shoulder to the inside of Jim’s suit jacket, desperate for some skin contact. Finding a crease in Jim’s shirt, Leonard had it up and his hand running over the strong muscle he could feel as Jim moaned against his lips; a sound Leonard wasn’t far from making as Jim pressed his pelvis forward.

“Boys, we’re really running out of time-” 

“Scotty, shu’up-” One of them muttered into the other’s mouth until Leonard’s hand came to sit against Jim’s half covered waist and push him slightly away.  
“We got a job to do, Jim.” He reminded in between short kisses. “Can’t stay in here all day.” Jim had no reply, just continued to kiss Leonard, feel Leonard and push his hair into a further state of unrule. Eventually, Jim paused to rest his forehead against Leonard’s, his breathing laboured.

“I’ll stop if you promise me that drink.” Jim bargained and Leonard’s lips broke to a grin. 

“Deal,” Leonard agreed with a hint of mischief, “So long as we can pick up where we left off after it?”

Jim pulled back to analyse Leonard’s face for sincerity. Finding it in a reassuring grin and kind eyes, he leaned in for one last kiss, softer than the rest before picking up his glasses from the desk beside him. 

“Sounds good, but let’s stop a bad guy first.” 

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun to write but i got too involved with setting the scene at the start idk why i get so carried away but i did. soz. anyways. let me know what yous think!


	5. Whisky Galore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just exactly how Bones gets hold of Chekov's prime whisky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recently, one of [ my posts ](http://sawbonesmccoy.tumblr.com/post/154175616664/fuckyeahkirk-mccoy-karlurbans-i-always) had their tags hijacked, added as comment and then was spread about tumblr quite a bit, so i thought i should probably write it out. his one isn't quite a prompt unless you think of it as me being prompted to fill the gap.

It was supply day and Leonard didn’t trust anyone except Chapel, M’Benga and himself to accurately account for their medical supplies, and so, in their plain clothes, the trio found themselves counting hypos and antibiotics. Each of them had a cart to themselves and a checklist on their padds to tick off. 

“Y’know, Len, this wasn’t how I wanted to spend my Friday.” Jeffrey called from one end of the surgically clean medbay. 

“Or me,” Christine added. “But, I’d be pissed to find this done wrong, so I’ll accept the labour, but I won’t be happy about it.” 

“And that’s why we’re here.” Stated Leonard as he ticked off another subsection of hypos from his list. “Alright, who has the mud fleas?” Leonard asked as he read off the padd in front of him, but as Christine and Jeffrey both shook their heads, Leonard rolled his eyes. “See, knew we’d be missin’ somethin’.” 

Leonard left the bay, making his way back through the halls of the ship to the docking port to contact the supplier. He had been told the supplier would be reachable from the dock - because there was a bar there and they weren’t due back to base for another ten hours. On his way, however, he crossed corridors with a familiar face.

“Pavel, how’s it going?” Leonard asked with a quick smile while Chekov looked like he had been caught.

“Oh, ah, Doctor McCoy, s’good, it’s alright - just setting things up for the big trip.” Chekov smiled awkwardly and kept the bag he was holding close to the back of his legs, out of sight from Leonard. 

“Well, alright, Pavel, I’ll see you tomorrow night for crew drinks, right?” 

“Oh, yes, see you there.” Chekov nodded, the tightly bound curl on his forehead bouncing, and continued on his way leaving Leonard’s interest piqued. Chekov was too young to have secrets - especially the kind that clinked. Not being able to help himself, Leonard followed Chekov as silently as he could, sticking to walls and edges as Chekov made his way to the bridge crew’s lockers. Peeking around the corner, Leonard watched as Chekov unloaded a bottle of weak and cheap vodka followed by what Leonard would have assumed to be premium vodka, but instead, was shocked and jealous by the sight of fine Glenfiddich. The bright amber whisky glinted in the neons before Chekov slipped it away and Leonard scuttered, formulating ideas as he went - that whisky was his if it killed him. 

Leonard’s first attempt to get the whisky from Chekov was basically transparent and looking back Leonard had no idea how Chekov didn’t catch on for being such a genius. 

“So, if you had a numerical code, what would you make it?” Even being less than sober, Leonard winced at his stupidly overt tactics, but he knew that even with Chekov as drunk as he was, his chances were slim. 

“Nothing obvious, no special dates, that’s where people always get it wrong,” Chekov started, a finger raised in lecture. “The numbers must be random and have no connection to you as a person.” 

“So, you don’t have a method of picking numbers?” Leonard pushed, downing the last sip of whisky to add to his nonchalant act.

“Oh, yes, such as, how many people are walking by while I am making the code, how many edges there are on the device I am encoding, but even then I will multiply or divide that number by something else I see - completely random.” Chekov smiled, glad to be engaged in a conversation with Leonard, but Chekov’s face fell as Leonard rolled his eyes, slapped his shot glass down and walked away to join Jim. 

“Damn geniuses.” He muttered into the crowds.

He tried again, some time later, on their first bout of shore leave with a similar tactic. He waited until chekov was well over limit and started buying him shots, challenging him to a battle of Southern Charm over Russian Tolerance. Of course, the liquor was cheap and deadly and Chekov was already too inebriated to realise Leonard was only throwing it over his shoulder. Still, he got nowhere. Not even by asking stupid questions like, ‘what’s your favourite number?’, when, apparently, Chekov didn’t have one single favourite number. 

When Leonard was finished interrogating him he slid Chekov’s slurring self onto Sulu with advice to get him started ‘on the water’ or else the Enterprise wouldn’t have a navigator in the morning. 

Chekov’s locker remained impenetrable for the next few months but Leonard became determined. He also knew Chekov hadn’t opened it yet - while he had no evidence for this he knew that that that bottle was being saved for a particular type of situation, and so far, thankfully, Chekov hadn’t had one yet. But Leonard was coming up to one and Jim deserved something nice… at Chekov’s expense. 

The thought of the unopened bottle started to plague him. Every time he walked by the lockers, he couldn’t stop himself from glaring at Chekov’s, scheming ways to get it out. When the thought of asking Chekov to open his locker, hit him over the head and make a break for it ran through his mind, Leonard had to take a breather. It was just a bottle. Just a bottle of some seriously fine, top, top, _top_ shelf whisky from Dufftown, in the only country worth buying whisky from. And it was Jim’s _birthday_ after all, and Leonard knew how much that filled Jim with dread. Really, by getting that whisky, he was doing a good thing, he was being caring and healing and a good doctor… it was justified. 

The plan came together too quickly after a patient had a bad reaction to a vaccine and had such a violent fit, they destroyed a medical cart. After the nurses had stabilised the patient and added important notes to their file, Leonard eyed the metal bar that lay on the floor. It would be destroyed, or handed to engineering in case they ever needed something that looked a lot like a crowbar. Or, it would be handed to engineering _after_ Leonard had had a shot with it. 

Taking it from the floor, he got one strange look from Chapel that he ignored as a small smile of pre-triumph grew across his lips. He made his way towards the lockers with so much confidence that no one he passed gave him so much as a questioning glance, even with the metal bar in his grip. As he stood in front of it, he tried to stare it down, brandishing the bar in a tight fist as he chewed his lip in consideration. He probably should have found out if these sorts of lockers had any kind of alarms. Even if they didn’t, maybe Chekov added one - but then again, what sort of locker _didn’t_ have an alarm. Dammit. 

With a roll of his shoulders and a glance towards the door he came in by, he thought of all the frustration and attempts he had made before - now was not the time to back out. If he worked quickly enough, he could be gone by the time Chekov came running to see what was going on. 

Without any more deliberation he stepped forward, wedging the metal bar along the seam of the door. Thankful for the strength training he had suffered through, he wrangled the bar, pushing, pulling and leaning on it as the metal door groaned loudly under the stress. One last jump with his full broad weight earned a stuttering creak as the door gave way. He had bent the door so much in the middle that the lock was rendered useless as the top hinge broke, leaving it hanging by the lower hinge. Leonard regained his balance grinning as he regained his breath. He dropped the bar to the ground with a metallic clatter and whistled impressed as he pulled his treasure from the locker. He briefly inspected it; seal unbroken and the liquid as pure and clear as polished amber. It was perfect - even if his job of getting it looked like the aftermath of mob violence. 

With the locked door swinging off a hinge at a moany angle, Leonard turned to leave, not even bothering to raise his eyes to the shocked security officer who had been alerted to a ‘break in’, only to find the ship’s most trusted doctor as the culprit.

“You should get that fixed,” He muttered on his way by. “S’security hazard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry jim was lacking in this one, but i had this in my docs for a while and i didn't want to post it singularly. i hope you still enjoyed it! also, yeah, that is my personal tumblr so feel free to annoy me on there as well as my writing tumblr (@greglet). also, feel free to drop me any fun prompts you see, i'm open to suggestions. you can leave them in the comments here or send them to either of my tumblrs!


	6. Stock Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To fill the prompt: fake relationship turned real

It was meant to be an uneventful day, it was meant to be quiet. Leonard had had it written in his padd that today was a stock take - the most uneventful task in his calendar year. No one was looking forward to it except him. It meant that it was a scheduled day of peace and he enjoyed it every year. Still, despite the medbay doors swooshing open every so often, there was something about this swoosh that had a chill of danger running down his spine as he turned to see Jim, golden under the neon lights while his grin missed usual the electricity.

“Jim.” Leonard announced, setting his padd down on a cart. 

“Bones,” Jim started before looking over his shoulder as Spock stepped in behind him as Leonard’s sense of incoming danger doubled. “A word?” 

Leonard’s brow raised expectantly as Spock hovered dutifully behind Jim, his usually confident posture gazing more towards the floor. 

“No.” Leonard decided, hoping that denying them a start would kill whatever flick of the universe was trying to kill him this week. 

“Well, you’ve got no choice, c’mon on.” Jim said with a pat to his shoulder before walking past him and into Leonard’s office. “Take a seat, Bones.” Jim invited, sitting himself down at the guest-side of Leonard’s desk. With a sigh and a brief close of his eyes to shift the building stress from his brow, Leonard followed in, sitting at his usual side, facing Jim who’s grin had been suppressed to a tight lipped smile, and Spock who was as dour as any other day of the week. 

“Alright, so what am I getting dragged into now?” Leonard asked, his arms folded across his chest defensively. “And I thought you two were fighting with the Litraths over that treaty?” 

“We are, we’ve just hit a roadblock.” Jim replied, his unwavering grin now making Leonard uncomfortable. 

“And?” Leonard pushed.

“And, we might need your help.” Jim admitted, his gaze briefly finding a wisp of guilt. 

“We?” Leonard eyed Spock who wore a look of indignation at the accusation. 

“I,” He stressed, “I need your help.” Jim levelled with a tilt of his head. 

“Great, what alien am I stickin’ a band-aid on then?” Leonard assumed, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, a few of the Litrath’s eventually, once we get into the King’s favours, y’know,” Jim shrugged. “Just need to get the King’s approval before we do anything, but he does want us to do stuff - we just gotta meet his conditions before he meets ours.” 

“ _And_ ” Leonard pushed again, feeling that his search for the point as almost in vain if Jim wouldn’t stop circling around it. 

“And, well, you know Starfleets been on my back about this treaty-” 

“They threatened to demote you-” Leonard helpfully reminded him since it made him laugh - the thought of Starfleet ever losing their poster boy almost improved his mood; no one had job security like Jim Kirk did. 

“Yes, they did,” Jim smirked and meant none of it before he continued, “So, the Litraths are bonders, their social system is powered by the force of a bond.” The almost imperceptible sigh Spock expelled summed up how Leonard felt at the minute.

“Why am I getting a cultural lesson and not the point?” Leonard complained.

“I need to be bonded, Bones.” Jim’s replied bluntly to his knotted hands on the desk. 

“Spock, get out.”

“Spock, stay,” Jim directed, “Bones, I’m just saying, we can get out of orbit a lot quicker if we-” 

“Jim, no way, no way in hell am I ‘bonding’ with you for a bunch of fuckin’ aliens.” Leonard spat, the venom in his tone biting as he stood to pace. 

“Spock, get out-”

“No, Spock, stay,” Leonard insisted, “Stay here and let's decide together who’s gonna bond with Jim in order to make some asshole alien smug.” 

“Actually, Doctor, I will leave, but only because the atmosphere in here is more insufferable than the atmosphere outside this ship.” With a straightening of his shirt, Spock turned to leave, followed only by Leonard’s dark glare. 

“Bones-” 

“Don’t you _Bones_ me, Jim, you come here - all grins and giggles - and ask me to be with you?” Leonard asked, incredulous under his building anger; he didn’t need his feelings played like this. “Why me? Why not Spock? He’s by your side every damn day, who the hell would suspect-”

“They know about him and Uhura.” Jim shrugged.

“What about Christine? She’s countin’ hypos Jim, she’d appreciate a walk.” 

“No, you know if the alien’s asked me to make a move to prove it, she’d punch me in the face and blow it.” Jim explained, his tone sure. 

“‘Cause you’d fuckin’ deserve it,” Leonard shot back to a disappointed lowering of Jim’s shoulders. “What about Jeff? He’s doin’ the same thing!” 

“Bones, please, it’s gotta be at least somewhat real, s’gotta be more than just friends.” Jim spoke carefully, his blue eyes hinting at a topic they hadn’t really ventured into sober, or, if Leonard was honest, at all. 

“More than ‘just friends’ isn’t grounds for this, Jim, not even to suit some aliens.” Leonard said, finding a resigned calm; he wasn’t bonding with Jim, not today. 

“Alright, fine, then afterwards we forget it happened - aliens are none the wiser and everything’s back to normal.” He shrugged while Leonard saw the disappointment Jim was trying to hide that was not unlike his own. 

“It would never be _normal_ , Jim, it’d always be there, there’d always be that moment when we did this, when we had this… experience.” 

“Why can’t we just _pretend_ for a little while, Bones, it won’t be for long.”

“Well, Jim, you’re not stupid, you know how I feel, I couldn’t just give it a chance only to kill it.” Leonard’s gaze caught Jim’s, expressing in silence what he meant. While they had never discussed feelings between them, each of them knew there was something - each of them knew Leonard was more able to admit it, even if it was in shady whispers and double meanings. 

“Then, maybe we could build on it.” Jim offered, a partial solution that Leonard felt was too off-the-cuff to be genuine or hold any real hope for a future. 

“I don’t want it to start on a lie, that’s no way to start anything.” Leonard stated. 

“It wouldn’t be a lie, Bones,” Jim paused and took a breath only to let it go as he struggled to say what he wanted to. “Just, it’s not a lie -”

“Captain-” Uhura’s voice sounded over them as Jim pushed her through. 

“Yes, lieutenant?” 

“It’s Starfleet, sir, they’re requesting an update on the treaty signing-” 

Jim’s eyes rose to Leonard’s, giving him the glance that told him they were never just friends and it wasn’t a lie - but it wasn’t clear either. Still, Leonard knew that Jim would never ask him something like this had it not been vital, had it not been of utmost importance to the point where he had exhausted all other options. Now, with Starfleet berating Jim, yet again, to hurry up and get the treaty signed before the Litraths gave up and moved on, Leonard could feel himself giving over to Jim’s wishes. He supposed, if he thought of it like a job, he might be able to remain unattached emotionally - it was an act, a front and a facade. His gram’a always said he had a flair for the dramatic when he wanted it. When the Admirals disappeared from the screen, Jim’s head sank to his hands with a long sigh. 

“Alright,” Leonard said, “I’ll do it, I’ll pretend to be bonded with you until you sign that stupid paper.” 

Jim looked up, his gratefulness only slanted by a tint of wonder of Leonard’s set conditions. “Thanks, Bones, I really appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, just until that paper’s signed.” Leonard pressed again, deciding that at that point, it would be over and he wouldn’t have to pretend to be in love with Jim and could go back to honestly being in love with Jim but from afar and unrequited. 

“You got it.” His blue eyes shone with dejection. Damn those eyes, Leonard thought, always too honest, too easily read and too damn blue. 

The following night gave Leonard no rest from his anguish. The later the hour, the worse he felt about agreeing to the whole charade. He didn’t even know what he was going to have to be doing and yet, the second Jim dipped his eyes and asked for help, Leonard was tripping over himself to accept. He rolled over on his bed, disagreeing that maybe he hadn’t been just _that_ enthusiastic to accept the role of ‘bonded’, but it didn’t really take him long. And even that, ‘bonded’ - what did it mean? How much could the alien’s discern from a look? Would they know they weren’t fucking? Would that matter? Would Leonard have to be draped over Jim, cooing and stroking his hair, kissing him openly or at all? The thought flitted through his mind to comm Jim and find out, to put his mind at rest, but really, the idea of hearing Jim asking Leonard to kiss him would only make the discomfort worse. 

By the time Leonard’s eyes were too heavy to worry, it was almost time to be up again. The lights in his quarter rose gradually, producing the tones of an artificial sunrise. He ignored it for as long as he could before he was late, but he still made it out his quarters and in the lift towards medbay with a few minutes to spare. He didn’t quite reach his office doors when a comm came through for him from Scotty - Leonard’s stomach flipped the moment he heard it. 

“Doctor, if you could report to the transporter bay, please, the Captain’s waiting for you here.” Scotty’s tone was cautious, he knew how much Leonard hated that bay. 

“Why? Why am I being called to the transporter, s’not an emergency, is it?” 

“Well, no-” Scotty was interrupted by Jim.

“Bones, we gotta go, y’know, show the aliens.” Jim clarified. 

“Show the aliens what?” Leonard pushed, a tired annoyance creeping in. 

“What we talked about.” Jim added, obviously not wanting to spill anything over the channel while others were in the transporter bay. “C’mon, Bones, you agreed-” 

“Yeah, I’ll be down.” He realised after he let the comm go that Jim had brought Scotty up from engineering to play with the controls in the transporter bay. It was a small gesture, but it settled Leonard enough to only be worrying about his acting skills rather than his atoms being scattered. When he reached the bay, Jim gave him a reassuring smile as Scotty told him that it’d ‘be over in a jiffy’. It was, he admitted, when he opened his eyes to find himself on an atypically orange planet where even the fauna was tangerine. From the landing podium, the three moons were visible, as was the shining palace crafted from glass. What looked like servants dressed in rags adorned with crossing ferns in a rope belt greeted them with tight bows as Jim took Leonard’s hand. 

“Remy,” Jim started, grinning, “This is my Leonard.” The hesitation in the title had been so minuet, Leonard only noticed it because he had been expecting it. The man named Remy, whose skin was a vibrant cinnamon and hair a crest a peacock would be jealous of, reflected Jim’s grin and bowed to Leonard. 

“Our King will be very pleased to see you, Jim and Leonard.” It was safe to say the universal translators were working well, disguising the barks and squawks of the native tongue into English. 

Remy ran ahead, a few metres in front of Leonard and Jim, whose hands remained entwined. 

“Jim,” Leonard whispered, “You didn’t set out any boundaries - how far do I have to… y’know?”   
“I don’t know, Bones, I don’t think they’ll push it if they can sense it.” Jim replied just as quietly, his hand squeezing Leonard’s in reassurance, but Leonard took Jim’s words as a warning; feel it, let it fill him, and they could leave just as quick as they arrived. But Leonard supposed, it wouldn’t be an act if it ended with Leonard giving over to his feelings, it’d be a disaster. 

Arriving at the palace they passed guards who crouched, as if ready to lunge at a moment's notice, with glass forked spears poised at the right height to pierce the jugular of any such threat. Jim and Leonard strolled in unharmed, their guide acting as a shield, and were finally welcome by who Leonard assumed to be the Royalty of the planet. 

Orange, feathered and as plump as a thanksgiving turkey, Leonard followed Jim’s lead in bowing as one of the crowned Litrath’s clapped his hands in cheer. 

“Jim, you’re back with your Leonard, I sense he’s a little overwhelmed, a little worried, cautious, nervous, but still eager to prove himself - excellent.” The wide eyes of the Royal bore down on Leonard as he understood just how much he was under the microscope. “Gold and blue,” The King mused, “You, Jim, would blend in well - another hue to our planet, but Leonard, you offer such a vicious contrast… I wonder if that’s part of what draws you to each other.” 

Neither Jim or Leonard bothered to comment as the King turned to welcome his other half - a more slight male gracefully descended clay stairs to clasp the rotound King’s clawed palm.

“This is King Sorst, we have the strongest bond in our realm.” The two held eyes for a moment as Leonard looked away, even just the gaze was enough to tell Leonard how much trouble he was in if he failed. “And from what jim has told me about you, and your bond, I can’t imagine a more destined duo.” 

Leonard’s eyes flicked to Jim who had a the briefest twist of guilt - he had planned this for longer than he had let on. 

“Oh, don’t be angry at him, Leonard, he’s said nothing but the truth, I am sure.” The King laughed it off and slapped a free palm to Jim’s shoulder. “A fiery one, just like you said.” 

“So, Bones, this is King Orn, he has been wanting to meet you-” 

“Don’t be coy, James, I wanted to get a sense of him.” King Orn interrupted, the wide set eyes turning to evaluate Leonard all over again who didn’t want to feel his reliance on Jim grow at the examination, but it did anyway. Sorst interrupted before Orn buried his eyes any deeper.

“Let’s retire, Orn, they are guests, after all.” Orn replied with a bark of agreement and followed his other half up the stairs of the grand hall to a gathering of two thrones and two smaller, but just as plush, chairs facing the thrones.

“Jim has told us much about your bond - where you met on the shuttle, how you grew together during your schooling and even went on to save your galaxies - you have had such extraordinary adventures.” Sorst began, but Leonard didn’t share in the enthusiasm - some of the details of those adventures were still a little raw. 

“Indeed, so much adrenaline in even the shortest of stories,” Orn’s statement seemed pointed, as if he wanted to ask about something but had been struggling to find an opening to do so. Leonard tilted his head, inviting the inquiry. “As adrenaline counts for so much in your speeches, is that where you derive your pleasure from one another? From these tremendous stunts?” 

Jim coloured beside Leonard and he barely stopped himself from asking Jim what he was blushing about - he brought this on his damn self - but instead, Leonard shook his head. “No, I for one do not actually enjoy any of the disasters we end up in.” 

“Then, what?” Orn pressed while possibly forgetting he was dealing with an experienced doctor; subjects of graphic nature and a deadpan expression were his forte… when he needed it to be. 

“As a species, we engage in sex, and I’m sure your species will have something not dissimilar.” Leonard offered a hand in signal for their input which was vague agreement. “It’s a physical pleasure, effortlessly enjoyable with the right person.” Leonard added with a small tilt of his head towards Jim although they had never been drunk enough or honest enough to reach that level of intimacy.

“And that’s it?” Orn asked and Jim stuttered to cover Leonard’s scientific answer, but Leonard cut over him. 

“‘Course not, but it’s what you were asking for.” Leonard replied bluntly as Jim shrunk at his side, feeling his treaty go south before Orn laughed. 

“I can see why you love him so, Jim, no time for facades,” Orn relaxed, his thick shoulders resting over the back of a plush chair. “But if that’s not the only thing, then go on, I’m interested.” 

Leonard noticed Jim’s side glance and elected to ignore it. He stalled for a moment with a shrug while he was reminded that the best lies stem from the truth. 

“When he wears my clothes - sitting in my room after a shift in my old college hoodies… when he falls asleep on me and he refuses to move, even when my arm or leg goes numb.”

“That’s a good thing?” 

“It’s a comforting thing, a closeness, an intimacy not shared with anyone else.” Sorst smiled tightly as Orn considered Leonard’s words. “I mean, there’s the flip side - I hate when he steals my clothes and I have to hunt the ship for them, or when he pretends he’s not hurt when he is, waves off gashes and poisons but thinks he’s dying when he has a cold.” Jim’s hand went to the back of his neck in an unconscious display of his uneasiness, but Leonard smirked. “Still, there’s something to be loved within those things too.” 

It had been the first time he had used that word to describe something between them, and he could tell they both felt the vibrations. 

“And you feel the same?” 

“Well, he doesn’t wear my clothes-”

“How could I?” Leonard cut in, his broad shoulders burst through most of Jim’s tight shirts or hung all wrong around his chest.

“And he doesn’t come to me when he’s hurt ‘cause I’d only make it worse, but he talks to me beyond titles, he’s there on shift and after for me, on shore leave and breaks, back home and on birthdays and holidays, he’s always on call even though he maintains house calls aren’t his thing.” Jim held Leonard’s gaze for a moment before Leonard smirked; house calls weren’t his thing. “I like his coffee - he’s a good bartender, too, but like all cautiously mad drinkers, he has a cure for the damage he inflicts and it’s a really freakin’ good cup of coffee right when you need it.” 

Leonard smiled at his feet, not quite able to make eye contact with Jim. While he appreciated all the compliments, and was only barely stopping himself from blushing wildly, he couldn’t release seven years of buried emotions over a review of his coffee. 

King Orn made a thoughtful hum as King Sorst stepped up from his chair.

“I agree,” King Sorst started, his voice as regal as his movements, leaving Leonard wondering who he was agreeing with, “Your Bones is covering something, hiding it, trying not to give it away… I would be interested in seeing it.” 

This made Jim jump and begin to refuse whatever offer had been extended by Sorst. 

“Oh, but Sire, you told me that room was for Royal elections, we couldn’t-” Jim started, both hands up in front of him, signalling a strong refusal as Leonard stood confused, his eyes flicking between conversation. 

“Nonsense, that room is used how we wish it to be.” King Orn swept a hand out in front of them, pointing down to an ornate door to their right. “A wonderful idea from Sorst, a true proof - and we know how much the doctor likes his proof.” Orn smiled at Leonard who was starting to hate being the only one uneducated. 

“What’s going on, Jim? What’s in the room?” Leonard turned, trying not to show up too much of the concern, trying not to show the wavering fret he was feeling at being out his depth. 

“The room displays the bond visually - the rocks can sense it as much as we can, but they display it for all to see.” Orn explained, leading Jim and Leonard across the room that looked similar to a greek temple with extravagant pillars all naturally ginger. The door they were lead to was pearlescent, glimmering in the light, but Leonard wasn’t taken by the colour - he was sick of the mystery and wanted to get back to the ship. 

“There is a viewing deck where our high officials watch during our elections, noting the colours and how they interact - the stronger the colours and interaction means a tighter bond,” Sorst’s gaze flicked to Orn’s, a silent signal for his other half to take over as Sorst opened the door for them. Orn who slugged behind, continued the explanation. 

“We’ve never had humans before - humanoids, yes, but no pure humans,” Orn upturned his palms, expressing a shrug as if to say their interest was only natural - or their trust not yet secured. “As Litraths, a bond is what we rely on, it fuels our lives here, pushes even our economies and builds our society - it’s what we need and what we trust,” Orn followed Sorst to a short wall of dull red bricks, barely visible in the dark room once the door was shut. The only light shone from the head of the room from a skylight that lit an ornate rock. At the corners stood four other smaller stones at the perimeter of a vibrantly mosaic square floor. “We know you want us to sign your treaty, we know the minerals you need are under our rocks, but we need security, we need to know our minerals are in good, honest, _bonded_ hands.” 

Leonard’s jaw locked and Jim met his worry with an apologetic look. The Litrath’s had pushed it, despite sensing it. 

“Now, if you would stand in the middle of our nadir.” Orn pointed with a sharp claw and Jim immediately stepped on and waited for a hesitant Leonard who remained beyond the edge of the square. “It only works with two, Leonard.” Orn prompted. 

“It’s okay, Bones,” Jim said quietly, and with a harsh swallow, Leonard stepped forward. Immediately, Jim’s outstretched hand burned gold, much to the surprise of Jim and the pleasure of the two Kings. 

“Interesting; the colour isn’t how you perceive yourself, but how your other does - the strength and size of your aura, is down to the power of your own feelings, however.” Sorst explained over the rush of wind. Leonard was so taken by the gold flames that lapped over Jim’s arms now, climbing over his shoulders, that he hadn’t noticed the small wisps of teal that flickered at his fingertips. But, he knew Jim would be gold, that much was obvious - Jim was gold to Leonard before he had been awarded that shirt.

“Hm, that is an imbalance.” Orn said, a hint of disappointment, “He’s still holding back.” 

Jim stepped forward, blocking the sight of the two Kings from Leonard view and took his hand. “Let it go.” 

Leonard shook his head knowing that if he did, it would be too much - even Jim’s steady flicker of gold wouldn’t compare. 

“It’s alright, Bones, I promise.” Jim reassured again as one of the King’s prompted Jim, but the noise fell into the background unregistered by Leonard as he closed his eyes. 

“Okay, Jim.” Leonard muttered as he shivered with the rush of emotion he had been burying for years. It rushed over him in a wave, dancing around him in a viciously shade of viridian. The gust from the aura that whisped like steam was strong enough to flow through Jim and leonard’s hair, ruffling it as the Kings gasped and grinned. 

In seeing the strength of Leonard’s feelings out in front of him, Jim’s grew to match, causing a smile of relief across Leonard’s lips despite Jim still looking somewhat surprised. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t know.” Leonard said, leaning into the hand Jim had pressed to his cheek. 

“Not like this, I didn’t know it was like this.” Jim’s smile widened, but Leonard looked away, not wanting to give into the building hope.

“Jim, I can’t enjoy this if we’re going to forget about it when we leave-” 

“No, look how much you mean to me,” Jim stepped back, the gold light was filling his half of the square, mingling into a sparkling pool of sea green where the gold met the cyan. “I’m not pretending it doesn’t affect me any more that we don’t admit to it - I’m not ignoring it anymore.” 

“Are you sure?” Leonard asked, but he could feel the certainty in the change of the air, it felt solid, unrelenting and full of the stubbornness he was so used to.

“Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanted to write something lame and together-y so i did. sorry it's lame. i don't care. that's what happens when you realise you hold all the power. you can write what you want. so i did. its lame and i dont even care. yas. i still hope you enjoyed it tho!


	7. Fat Lip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To fill the prompt: You’re the health conscious med student and i’m the world’s most unhealthy eater and your barista and you leave me notes on diabetes and cholesterol on your napkins and a 20 page essay on bad diet and premature death under your saucer

It was a sight to behold and Leonard could hardly stop staring. It was dripping in fat, oil, grease, thick yellow goop and red syrup. The scent alone was clogging his nose and somehow managing to overpower the five year old stench of consistently roasted coffee. The sight was one thing and the smell was another, but the way the lame pink meat hung and the beige bun of the third hotdog crumbled was making Leonard’s stomach twist. The third hotdog was accompanied by the last slurps of a head-sized plastic cup of vicious blue shaved ice where Leonard could only imagine the amount of sugar. He had no sympathy for the barista who was putting it all away, only disgusted disbelief. 

Leonard had frequented the coffee shop on his morning for a few months now - grabbing a cup of a dark roast on his way to early lectures to keep him awake. He knew the barista in question as Jim. Jim was beautiful; short blonde hair, bright blue eyes as vibrant as the best of Georgia summers and a strong but slight physique - a physique that was surely on it’s way out, along with Jim’s heart, if the three hotdogs and sugared ice was any indicator of his diet. 

When Leonard came to leave, he considered leaving a note - his next lecture was on healthy eating and his class that afternoon was on the long term effects of a balanced diet… but no, he thought, he couldn’t be as judgemental after one session of lunchtime spying. This thought process, however, did not last into the next day when Leonard couldn’t bare to kept himself away.

After the full pizza and side of onion rings, Leonard struggled to keep his opinions to himself. Yet, he couldn’t trust himself to have a normal, friendly chat-of-concern with the barista who kept him awake in his classes and not a lecture, so instead he fished out a pen from in between the pages of his medical textbook and found a napkin. 

Kinda hoping hotdogs and pizza are not the only things you’re eating, do you know what those things do to your heart? Maybe find some greens.  
Concerned Med Student.

Maybe it was a little prodding, but Leonard couldn’t watch the man do more damage without any sort of sensible intervention. Or maybe there had been intervention - Jim must have friends, what are his colleagues saying about his trips to the food carts outside? Has Jim ever been taken to a supermarket? A deli? Does he know what a lettuce is? Alright, maybe he was being a little insulting now, but watching Jim clear away his trash and then have to bleach the grease off the table that ran through the paper was just disturbing. 

What possibly annoyed Leonard the most as he left his table, his napkin edged under his saucer, was that there were healthy options available to buy in the coffee house. Right there, in the fridge, vegetarian, vegan, healthy meat and fuller wraps, baguettes, sandwiches and bagels, all freshly prepared by baristas in store that day. By Jim. He made them and still didn’t eat them. He raised a half hand of thanks and goodbye as Jim called ‘see you later’ from across the coffee house. Leonard couldn’t stop himself from thinking that ‘see you later’ wasn’t at all inaccurate. 

For the third day in a row, Leonard had lunch in the cafe. His textbooks had been in front of him for an hour as he found himself with some free time between lectures. And even though the study session he had planned had been set in a library, he never made it in that direction. What had happened instead was a twist of his stomach that registered to him as a call for ‘caffeine’, although Leonard wasn’t sure that caffeine didn’t equal Jim now. He had also hoped that when he shuffled through the glass doors that Jim would’ve bounded over, laughed at the note from yesterday and their conversation could carry over a coffee and Jim’s break, but none of that happened. Even though it was quiet, and he spotted Jim in the back of the shop drying mugs from the dishwasher, there was no jolt of telepathic recognition as Jim didn’t look up. Leonard supposed it gave him time to set out his things, dumping his textbooks across the table and getting lost in some key reading and essay plans. He managed it well enough to sculpt a skeleton of the next two essays as well as set out his reading for the classes he had the following day. He worked so well and been focussed so long, he hadn’t noticed the time go by, nor had he noticed Jim sneaking out for something else horrific in every sense of the word. 

Leonard couldn’t even identify it, although whatever it was it was deep fried and drowning in ketchup. The large soda sat just within reach as Jim watched something on a tablet, laughing occasionally. To distract himself from his medical concern, Leonard bought a chicken salad from one of the other baristas before settling down again amongst his notes. His eyes flicked towards Jim sporadically, watching him polish off whatever the yellow slab was. If it hadn’t been literally dripping oil from Jim’s palms, Leonard could have been impressed by the sheer amount of food - _bad_ food - Jim could eat so easily. After a while, Leonard tried not to keep looking over, and tried even harder to not leave the handouts he received from his health eating class the other day stuffed under his saucer. Leonard shook his head at himself and packed up, carrying his books under one arm to stand at the end of the short queue for an afternoon light boost of caffeine.

“What can I get you, Leonard?” Asked Jim, his ever present grin gleaming. “Usual?” 

“Please.” Leonard smiled back, a moment of childish pride at the thought Jim remembered his order and his name. “So, uh,” Leonard started before he could stop himself, “Do you guys prepare the food in your fridges in store?” 

“Oh yeah,” Jim answered as he pottered around the machines, clinking and steaming. “Whoever’s in on early shift brings in the bread and veg in at six and starts washin’ and choppin’.”

“Is it good veg? It looks nice enough.” Leonard prompted.

“Yep, all fresh from local growers.” Jim smiled over his shoulder as he poured Leonard’s coffee into a to-go cup with enough flair to be received as ‘flirty’. “Why? You want something?” 

“No, I’m just wonderin’ why you’d endorse it but not eat it.” He said plainly, shrugging as well trying to remain as casual as he could. 

“Oh, we do - our manager, Uhura, is addicted to the salads, she says the dressing is unreal even though she makes it herself.” Jim’s short laugh stalled Leonard’s point for a moment before he was prompted by a bat of Jim’s lashes. 

“But you don’t?” 

A flicker of understanding twitched at Jim’s lips, adding up the note and Leonard’s direction. As Jim crossed his arms over his chest, Leonard took a step back.

“Look, I’m a med student, it’s in the job description, I just want to make sure you’re alright.” He said, trying to disarm the atmosphere Jim built with a twist of his lip. 

“Right,” Jim sounded out, the tight squint in his eyes had Leonard regretting even thinking about it. “I mean, I haven’t died yet.” 

Jim’s arms remained tight across his chest as Leonard replayed the last few days in his mind, truly hearing himself for the first time. He needed a slap for what he had been doing - and what he just said. 

“No, you’re right I overstepped, I’m sorry…” Leonard trailed off, hoping Jim might shrug it off and forgive him, but the sealed smile that wasn’t a smile at all remained on his lips leaving Leonard to pick up the to go cup and dump the load of change he had in his pocket for a bus into the tip jar. He fucked up and he knew it. 

Even walking back to his classes he couldn’t stop rolling He didn’t listen to a word his lecturer said for the next two hours, just scribbled harsh messes of ink and dark shapes on his page. How could he have been so rude? So arrogant to think he could just school some stranger on their own diet? Especially when he was the one drinking four cups of coffee a day and dropping by the same coffee house only to _watch_ some guy eat. What the hell was wrong with him? He groaned aloud to the annoyance of some of the students around him. 

He packed his things slowly at the end of the two hours, wanting nothing more than to go home and shower and die alone in his bed for a few hours before resurfacing tomorrow. And, of course, never visit that coffee house again. Or that part of town. It was banned, now. Forever. Dragging his bag over his shoulder, he carried the thicker books that didn’t fit and slumped out of his lecture hall, his head down and sorry. 

“So, you watch me eat for three days and now you won’t look at me?” 

Leonard recognised the voice immediately from over his shoulder and was cringing already by the time he turned to face Jim. 

“Look, I’m so s-” 

“Yeah, that was a real asshole thing to do, you don’t know me.” 

“I know, God, shit, I’m sorry, I have no idea what got into me, I swear I’ll never bother you ag- wait, what?” During Leonard’s apology, Jim spoke over him and the words took a little time to register. 

“I said, do you want to? Like, get to know me?” The attractive curved smirk Leonard had only had fleeting glances of had made a return, even though there was still heavy hesitation in the air. “I don’t know why the asshole student-doc is interesting, but yeah, I finish at five.” Jim shrugged, letting Leonard, who was still hanging in shock, come round to the idea. 

“Yeah, yeah, no, I would - please, sorry-” His brow creased at his own stuttering, but he couldn’t make up his mind whether or not to keep apologising or not. “Jim, I’m really sorry about what I said.” 

“Yeah, I know, you put on a good show - and you tipped us fifteen dollars in change for one cup, so I kinda had to say something.” Jim grinned and Leonard found a look between abashed and hopeful. 

“So, five?” 

“Five - and if you talk about diets, I’ll hit you.” Jim said bluntly, but the smirk of a joke sat at the corner of his lips. Still, Leonard raised one hand in defence and his book in the other. 

“I swear to God, no talk about diets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was kinda weird bc i was writing it and i was like ??? this prompt? is so rude??? so i totally changed the ending bc i started feeling really bad about this prompt and what it was suggesting so i made sure leonard got told off tbh. hope you enjoyed it anyway ;D  
> don't forget to leave me cool prompts in the comments and i'll do my best to write them up!!


	8. A Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To fill the prompt: STID amnesia

Of course, Leonard never stopped. He had been in this position before. He had worked his fingers beyond the bone, shed tears and weight, gained lines for his worry and tension in his tendons. He had worked on no sleep for weeks to save his dad, only to give up three weeks before the cure had been found. He wasn’t doing that to Jim. He wouldn’t give up. Not this time. 

Even when Leonard was sleeping, although poorly and briefly, his dreams were actively searching for possibilities and scenarios to test when he woke. The rest of the crew were worried about him just as much as they were about Jim, and even though he tried to stave off their worries with a quick smile they never believed him. Each member of the bridge crew had tried their hand in getting Leonard off shift for a few hours to look at something that wasn’t the walls of the Starfleet Medical Bay, but no one managed it. Spock made a fatal mistake in assuming Leonard wouldn’t resist a nerve pinch, but the clatter of metallic trays and equipment, the swearing and the brief fight Leonard couldn’t hold back - that ended with a punch to Spock’s heart and a harsh twist of his own wrist in response - said otherwise. Had his senses not kicked in and his sense of preserve for Jim, he wouldn’t have yelped for Spock to stop - he needed his wrists; Jim had surgeries planned. 

Uhura cried and grasped at Spock’s arm when he returned to the hallway, unsuccessful in knocking Leonard unconscious. Leonard didn’t need to see the look on her face when he heard her sniffing and Spock crooning in Vulcan. Still, this wasn’t in her hands, this was down to Leonard to fix. He was the doctor. He was Jim’s doctor. 

It took more stress and skill than Leonard would have ever estimated he had, but he gave it. When Jim woke first he was so drowsy. He didn’t say much of anything before he fell asleep again but that short bleed into the conscious world had Leonard in tears, gasping for a breath at the surge of hopeful joy. It was going to be alright, he lived, he brought Jim back from the dead - he lived and it was alright. 

The bio-bed monitored Jim every second and sent every reading directly to Leonard. He didn’t waste time going back to his room, he just stayed in Jim’s room, sometimes propped up on several visitors chairs he had wheeled in, or sometimes, if a nurse insisted, a spare bio bed from another ward. Leonard wouldn’t let the crew in yet - Jim’s immune system wasn’t just where it had been before the incident happened and although he trusted them, he couldn’t put Jim’s health at risk, not after everything he did. 

When Jim woke the second time, Leonard was waiting for him. The bio bed had detected elevated brain activity and he had perched himself at the end of Jim’s bed, a soft smile on his face. He had missed those blue eyes, he had missed the spark of mischief in them. As Jim’s head rolled round and he shuffled under his sheets, Leonard felt the soft joy run around him again - he managed it, he thought, he brought Jim back and the first flash of Jim’s neon blue’s was payment enough. 

“Jim,” Leonard said, his voice not much above a whisper, but the curls of his accent as present as ever. “S’good to see you, how’re you feeling?” 

“Fine… where am I?” Jim asked, a small dip in his forehead. 

“Back to base, the medical centre at Starfleet - San Fran.” Leonard answered as Jim nodded in understanding before his eyes drifted off as he searched his memory. 

“Khan-” There was a sudden alert in his voice that faded as his memory caught up. “Spock-” 

“Yeah, they’re all wanting to see you too.” Leonard smirked as Jim’s eyes turned pleading. “I’ll let them in later.” 

“Why not now, doc?” 

“Well, I just don’t want to run you dry on your first day awake, I’ll let them know you’re up though.” Leonard patted Jim’s shin through the sheets as he fired off a message to the bridge crew. 

“How’s, uhm, Scotty? I punched him in the face.” Jim’s eyes betrayed his guilt but Leonard only rolled his own. 

“How could you feel guilty about punching him in the face when you saved everyone else for doing it?” Leonard’s smirk made Jim shrug. “Don’t worry about Scotty, he’s fine, just worried about you.” 

“Alright, doc - have they all been in before now?” 

“Nah, I told them not until you’re up and about properly.” Leonard’s gaze flicked to his padd to see a few replies from the bridge crew already. “So, why are you calling me ‘doc’? That’s new.” Leonard looked back at jim, his gaze quizzical before he hummed at the mental results on his padd. “Maybe I should run some more tests, do you feel okay?” 

“I’m fine, but, you didn’t introduce yourself so I didn’t know what else to call you.” Jim laughed as if it was obvious but Leonard’s breath hitched in alarm. 

“You don’t-?” 

“Should I?” Jim found a look of panic that mirrored Leonard’s. “I don’t - Should I know you?” 

“We… we worked together a lot - I was your chief medical officer on your ship… I-” Leonard left out the part where they had been a couple for about six months after giving in to each other, but the rip at his heart was too much to bear. “I’m going to get the nurse to give you some relaxants, I’m sure your memory will come back - it’s your first time awake, we have to give it time.” 

Leonard left his padd at the foot of Jim’s bed and left, ignoring the calls of ‘doc’ behind him. He barely made it to the bathroom before his stomach churned. He couldn’t even believe his own words that Jim’s memory would come back eventually. Jim didn’t have any specific head trauma and there was no memory related problems picked up on any brain scans or neural pathways tests. As Leonard clung to a sink and let the water run as he breathed, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking the worst - what if he never remembered him? Would they have to start afresh? Lose all their experiences? Lose the memory of their first meeting that started everything? Or would Jim even want to start with him at all? Maybe Jim would find somebody new and fresh rather than exhausted and broken. 

It was the first night in a long time that Leonard had made his way back to his own quarters - the first time in weeks, and nothing had moved from where he left them. What was making him sick now was the sight of Jim’s three bags sitting on his bed, waiting for him. They had been delivered to Leonard’s quarters a few days after they had returned to Earth and Jim had been transferred to the medical base by the academy. Of course, no one blinked an eye in returning Jim’s possessions to Leonard - it was no secret they were together. They had already been each other's emergency contact for years, and near enough next of kin, before either of them had breached the idea of broadening their friendship. But now, the bags sat on his bed as an unwelcome reminder that this could be the last part of Jim to reach his bed. 

Leonard didn’t sleep. Apart from not having the heart, will, or strength to move Jim’s bags, but sleep with his back pressed against them, he couldn’t take his eyes from the padd connected to Jim’s biobed. He watched the readings from Jim’s neural pathways as if he would be able to see memories returning. Of course, he saw nothing and felt worse for it by the time he couldn’t ignore the daylight any further. 

The next few days were just as bad. He tended to Jim when he could face it, but had let the nurses take most of the slack he had been controlling for weeks. When he did face Jim, he kept his eyes on the panels he was adjusting and the fluids he was measuring. He avoided eye contact as much as he could except from a flick here or there to stop Jim asking too many questions. Not that Leonard gave him the time - after he had adjusted and fiddled with the equipment, he left to sit alone in the staffroom for a moment to stop himself losing hope. Jim might not have known how painful it was, but each time he saw Leonard he liked to update him on his lack of memories. ‘None yet, sorry’, had become Jim’s greeting and Leonard dreaded it more every morning. 

Spock was making frequent visits to his Captain’s side. Leonard didn’t want to see how much Jim picked up around Spock - the results on his padd spoke enough. Leonard distanced himself as much as he could from Jim, and even the crew, but it was wearing on him just as heavy as Jim’s gloomy prognosis had before the breakthrough. He gave Spock no more than a nod as they passed in the corridors and only a word or two to Nyota who sometimes accompanied him. 

He didn’t mean for the venom to be so raw when he smashed a bottle in his quarters a few nights later after Jim had requested visits from some of the lower ranking officers to make sure they were okay. Leonard knew how much every person was needed on that ship during the disaster, he knew how much they were worth, but what made them stick out in Jim’s mind more than him? What did Leonard do wrong? What did he miss? He laboured over Jim for weeks and he was nothing but the on-call doctor to him now. 

He staved off his hangover with enough coffee to make him competent for work, but too grumpy for small talk. He kept his eyes down when he reached medical, trying to blur his way to his rounds through the steam from his mug. He was finishing reports on his padd in an undisturbed corner of medical when a timid nurse came by to cough for his attention. 

“What?” He asked, his dull tone not hiding his irritation.

“Captain Kirk is asking for you, Sir.” 

“Tell Chapel.” 

“She told me to tell you - he’s asking for you specifically.” The nurse tailed off, hiding entirely behind a tall unit as if Leonard was a caged tiger about to lunge. “Sir?” 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be over.” The nurse turned on her heels and scuttled off to tend her patients as Leonard rubbed a hand over tired eyes. He had glimpsed briefly at Jim’s vitals while the nurse had been delivering her message, but he found nothing out of order on the padd. Still, if the nurse had already spoken to Chapel and then been told to go find him, he couldn’t stall any longer. A patient was asking for their doctor, he had to go. 

It wasn’t in his person to dawdle on his way to a patient, even when his gut was full of hesitation. Although every further footstep was an echo of his dread, he stepped quickly, knowing that the quicker he got there, the quicker he would be out. 

“Jim, what can I do for you?” He hid the waver in his voice, but he felt it in his throat. If Jim noticed it, he didn’t flinch to show it. 

“Well, I just wanted a word, Bones, is that okay?” Jim’s eyes watched as Leonard swallowed against hearing his old nickname. It felt wrong, disconnected, almost as if it was another member of the crew trying it on. 

“Did you remember that?” Leonard asked, standing beyond the reach of Jim’s flash of sympathy. 

“Sort of.” Jim admitted. “Take a seat.” Jim rolled his tongue over his lips as if he stopped himself from using the nickname again. Leonard wondered if one of the crew had told him to try and use it. Leonard took the offered seat on the white chairs placed at the side of Jim’s bed. At an angle and far enough away, Leonard sat his padd on his lap and crossed his arms over it, building his barriers however small they were. 

“Why am I here, Jim? Do you want me to go through the surgery details again?” Keeping it professional, he went to pick up the padd to find his notes but Jim shook his head. 

“No, I need to talk to you, I just…” Jim sighed and rolled his head to look out the window. “Spock has been helping me to remember.” 

“Oh,” Leonard replied, unsure what to make of the statement - whether to be grateful for the attempt, or sceptical of the harsh pull on Jim’s healing brain. “I see.” 

“I remember everything about myself, my life, the academy, how I got to the Enterprise, Khan and the warp core.” Jim started, but his tone didn’t give Leonard any hope. “But when I think of you, or think about the small details - Spock asked me who I met on my shuttle to the academy, but there was an empty seat beside me.” Leonard’s gaze dropped. “Or who was always at each of my attempts at the Kobayashi Maru? But, the faces are different every time.” 

“Why am I _here_ Jim?” Leonard asked again, not knowing how long he could take this. 

“I don’t remember looking back at you when I was pulled up in front of the security council for cheating on the ‘Maru, but I remember cheating on the ‘Maru… I don’t remember you filling me with mud fleas to get me on the enterprise or any specific moment after that… or I should say, I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Spock asked me about Lieutenant Carol Marcus and when she went down to disarm one of the torpedoes from Khan’s haul, and I panicked, I could feel panic, I was wrecked, I couldn’t breath, I was going to rip myself apart with the worry - not for Carol, but for the space that had their arm trapped in the locked torpedo.” 

“The space?” Leonard asked, a brow raised. “I’m a space?” 

“You’re a space, but you’re there.” Jim said, trying to assure him with a smirk. “I’m remembering more of the details as the hours pass, the more I think about it the more I remember - Spock tried the mind meld, but after the panic at the torpedo, he didn’t want to push it too soon.” 

Leonard nodded, grateful for Spock’s restraint. 

“I know we were together, I’ve put that much together myself.” Jim’s voice had dropped and Leonard fidgeted. “I know who you are, but some of that came from the crew - but I am remembering myself, too.” 

“Look, Jim, we weren’t together for a long time, if you want to-”

“No.” The certainty in Jim’s voice cause Leonard to look up and meet his eyes. “Unless you-” 

“No.” Leonard returned just as certain as Jim and his answer seemed to roll the tension out of Jim’s shoulders. “But I want you to get better, so, just don’t push it.” 

“When Spock asked me to describe my quarters, I described yours, and when he asked what colour my uniform was, I told him blue as if he was stupid.” Jim’s lips quirked to a smirk and for the first time in a week, Leonard broke a grin and a short chuckle, remembering the flurry of times Jim had been stuck for a shirt and threw on one of Leonard’s - not that he ever made it out of their quarters with it on. “I know it’s gold now, but my point is, you’re there, I remember you, it’s just maybe going to take a little longer to fill in the blanks, Bones.” 

Leonard nodded, an honest smile breaking out and the tension gone from his eyes as his nickname sounded natural. Jim’s hand opened in askance for Leonard’s and he obliged, holding Jim’s between both of his own. 

“Take your time, darlin’, I’ll be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to Tina for the prompt! i realised i'd never written an amnesia fic and it was kinda fun!!  
> also, if anyone else has any other bright ideas, don't forget to let me know! 
> 
> hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
